


boy, you make it look so easy

by zhennie



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mankai Company bonding time, Paintball, Secret Relationship, hesitation & uncertainty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26936872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhennie/pseuds/zhennie
Summary: Mankai Company plays paintball, as Chikage and Itaru think about each other.
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru/Utsuki Chikage
Comments: 10
Kudos: 92





	boy, you make it look so easy

**Author's Note:**

> i've been sitting on this for like a month. i'm not entirely satisfied with it and i'm not sure what else more to do to it, so i guess here it is anyways.
> 
> thank you to lily and kuro for beta.

Chikage finally finds Itaru in the bathroom, scrubbing at the dirty hem of his shirt. From where he stands, Chikage can also see that his sleeve is torn, and his hair is even more unruly than usual.

“Chigasaki,” Chikage says, and as Itaru turns, shoulders tensing up in anticipation of another fight, Chikage sees that there is a cut across his cheek as well, an angry red slash that looks new. His wrists are stained red, from where the water hadn’t hit it yet to wash clean. 

“Oh, it’s you, Senpai,” Itaru says, his shoulders untensing, and he lifts a corner of his mouth in wry acknowledgement. 

“Glad to see you’re still alive,” Chikage says, stepping in and closing the bathroom door behind him, looking around for something to barricade them in. 

“Doorstop,” Itaru points at a little wedge on the ground next to his discarded gun, and Chikage fetches it, kicking it firmly into the gap between the floor and the door. 

“You left your gun all the way over here?” Chikage comments, more than asks, “sloppy.” 

“Sorry we’re not all highly alert cheat characters like you, Senpai,” Itaru fires back. Chikage rolls his eyes, making his way over to Itaru and reaching out to hold his face still between his own hands and examine the cut on his face. Most of it, Chikage sees now, is actually red paint, and not blood. 

“Did someone actually come at you with a knife?” Chikage frowns, turning Itaru’s face to take a closer look at it. Definitely a slash, rather than a blunt force breaking of skin. 

“Banri pushed me into a pile of stuff,” Itaru explains, “sliced my cheek and my shirt.” 

“Is that so?” Chikage says, turning his face back before dropping his hands. Itaru’s face turns, almost involuntarily, as if to follow the motion, but then it stops too, with a small, almost imperceptible jolt--a motion that might not have been noticed at all, by someone who wasn’t Chikage, completely and devastatingly aware of every one of Itaru’s motions and tics.

“It’s fine,” Itaru smiles, “I’ll make him pay me back later. There’s a dungeon I need him to help me clear.” 

“Pay attention to the game in front of you first before you start thinking about other games,” Chikage scolds again, watching as Itaru leans forward, turning the faucet off and shaking the water off his hands. His wrists are still red, Chikage notes.

“Yes, of course,” Itaru says, giving his biggest (fakest) smile, “now, Senpai, shall we find the rest of our troupe?” 

\--

The thing is, it isn’t like this isn’t a situation Chikage hasn’t been in before. There were always several things to balance when it came to a mission--his cover identity, the target, the movement of those around him, his speech, others’ speech, the possibility of something going south at any time--the list went on and on. These were all variables Chikage had to hold in his hands with complete clarity at all times, or else risk things going very badly very quickly. 

However, this is perhaps the first time where that wouldn’t be the case. In some ways, it was strange to be using the skills he had spent most of his childhood honing in a game with no real consequences. At the end of the day, they would all go home, and they would still be family. They would laugh, and everyone would be whole. And it was fun to see Sakuya’s surprised expression when Chikage correctly predicted who would be coming around the corner, or Tsuzuru’s panicked one when he and Hisoka had faced off and clashed. It was nice to know that his hands and his skills could be used for something that didn’t end in destruction.

Itaru, for his part, seems to be composed, especially for someone who had been more than a little worried earlier about the physical aspect of this whole survival paintball game. He’d even landed the first killshot--Tenma, taken out at the very start of the game with the sort of matter-of-fact ruthlessness that Chikage associated more with agents of the Organization than with one lazy, game-obsessed roommate of his.

“Itaru, nice kill!” Citron had exclaimed, breaking the silence--and breaking the shock of the rest of the company as well. 

“Tenma-san!” Kumon had wailed, “Tenma-san, no!” 

“Are you serious,” Yuki had yelled, “you couldn’t even stay alive for five whole minutes you useless--”

“I swear I’ll avenge you!” Kumon had continued over Yuki, and the rest of the Summer Troupe, who had also started yelling over each other, “I’ll unlock the power of the Ninth Door and--” 

“Oops, time to go,” Itaru had shot Chikage a cheeky grin--the kind of smile that was both a little of the prince he was in the outside world and a little of the uncute brat he was for real, and grabbed his sleeve before running, the rest of the Spring Troupe not far after them. Of course, because it was Itaru, the situation soon switched, and it was Chikage pulling Itaru along. While they’d had a brief troupe strategy meeting as Itaru caught his breath, the situation had soon devolved into chaos, Autumn Troupe ambushing them and causing them to scatter. Luckily, an ambush had been one of the situations they had anticipated.

As Chikage looks at Itaru now, though, muttering as he rearms himself, he knows he should be thinking about what else the Autumn Troupe--or any of the other troupes, to be honest--might be planning between here and the meeting point. But at the moment, he can’t help but be distracted. 

They’d agreed, weeks ago, that it was best to keep everything between them quiet for now--it was better to take it slow, for the sake of the company and their relationship. There was so much potential for them to go wrong, and ruin this place for them both. Chikage had thought, honestly, that it would be fine. That the way Itaru’s face smiled and opened, the way he fit into his arms and sometimes switched ‘Senpai’ for ‘Chikage’ when they were alone, was fine to keep within the boundaries of their room. He’d thought, before, that to carve out this room of happiness would be enough.

What Chikage hadn’t anticipated, however, was how he chafed against the secret. Whatever he carved out, it never seemed big enough. When he looked at Itaru across the table during dinner, or watched him perform an etude during practice, Chikage wanted to reach out and grasp him--to say, in a way,  _ this is mine _ , and expand the world of their happiness. He’d never felt greedy, before this. He felt greedy now.

And Itaru had seemed fine, never displaying any indication that he might be going through the same inner turmoil. Except for in their room, he was still the same uncute brat he had always been--charming at work, decidedly uncharming outside of it. Even now, with Chikage turning over his thoughts in his mind over and over, Itaru remains unfazed, his face revealing only his thoughts about the game. 

“Ready,” Itaru finally says, holsting up his paintball gun. 

“...alright,” Chikage replies, trying to push away and compartmentalize his feelings the way he had been trained to do, “I’ll go in front, you watch the back.” Quietly, they move to the door, Chikage moving the doorstop away with his foot. He listens for movement outside it--no noise, but in that case, it could very well be Hisoka or Misumi, the two most agile Mankai members, lying in wait out there--before quietly opening the door, his eyes flicking from one end of the hall to the other, and then again, slower. 

It’s clear, and he inclines his head, Itaru nodding affirmatively, and as quietly as they can, they begin to make their way down the hall. The rendezvous point they had chosen was near where the game had started--probably not the best location, considering that everyone else would likely also be drawn to that location as the one they were most familiar with, but Chikage had correctly considered that it was more important to establish a spot first as part of their strategy. 

He keeps scanning the hallways as they make their way down, and Itaru’s body a warm presence behind him, one of his hands flat and splayed out between his shoulder blades. And again, Chikage can’t help but linger on that warmth--much hotter than he had imagined a hand could give off.

“Senpai,” Itaru whispers, suddenly, “-- _ Senpai _ !” 

A paintball whizzes by, and Chikage dodges instinctively, forgetting about the warmth to raise his gun, follow the trajectory backwards and anticipate a movement away to--

“Shit!” Azami swears, dodging the first paintball Chikage shoots only to be struck by the second, a splash of pale pink breaking on his upper arm like a flower bursting into bloom.  “Bon!” Sakyo barks, pausing in his firing to look at Azami, and the identifying shout of his location and the pause of his assault gives Chikage another chance--two more paintballs, both splating across his polo. 

“Nice kill,” Itaru compliments, but Chikage doesn’t bother to turn and see where Itaru is or respond, there’s still four more Autumn Troupe members. They may have split up--or they may be coming around the back. 

“Tch!” Chikage avoids another round of paintballs--from Juza, judging from the sound of his voice. He steps back and--a wall? Chikage startles--had he really lost track of his surroundings so much to put himself in an unideal position?

“Sorry, Chikage-san,” Omi says, stepping forward and raising his gun, “it’s nothing personal--” 

“Senpai!” Itaru yells, barreling into Chikage’s side as Omi’s gun goes off. 

“Fuck!” Banri’s voice, Chikage recognizes, gaze shifting to the side, to see Banri covered in orange paint across his front--his jacket still bunched up where Itaru had grabbed it. 

“What the hell, Itaru-san!” Banri yells, and Itaru just laughs, out of breath.

“That’s what you get, noob!” Itaru says, and Chikage’s brain seems to take that as his cue to begin working again, and in one swift motion, he grabs Itaru and throws him over his shoulder, ignoring his yell of protest to run, while Omi is still processing the turn of events. They turn one, two, three times before Chikage finally sets Itaru down, leaning against a wall to catch his breath as well. 

“Senpai, are you feeling alright?” Itaru asks, breathing heavy himself.

“...I’m fine,” Chikage replies, watching the way Itaru narrows his eyes, before stalking forward, his hand coming out to cup Chikage’s face and turn it to meet his own. 

“You seem distracted,” Itaru says.

“I’m fine,” Chikage shoots back, “don’t worry about it. Won’t happen again.” 

“Are you sure?” Itaru pushes. He drops his gun to the ground with a clatter that is way too loud, but Chikage doesn’t comment on it. His other hand comes up to cup the other side of Chikage’s face, and Itaru turns his head from side to side, an echo of the same examination Chikage had made earlier. 

“....it’s fine,” Chikage repeats, softer, “I don’t think there’s anything you could do to stop being so distracting, anyways.” 

“Huh? Me?” Itaru’s hands pause for a moment, before he repeats to clarify, “you’re distracted by me?” 

“...how could I not be?” Chikage replies, a smile ghosting across his face--a feeling he would only show this person, in times like this. 

“Jeez, Senpai,” Itaru says, but he’s smiling too, his face relaxed and his eyes crinkling, “you’re picking now, of all times, to be romantic?” 

“You picked now, of all times, to be cute,” Chikage retorts. 

“Freeze!” They turn, and it’s Taichi, brandishing two paintball guns, one in each hand, “I’ve come to avenge our Ban-chan! You won’t get away with this--ah!” Acting on instinct, Chikage grabs Itaru’s hand, and rushes forward, bumping--accidentally--into Taichi. It has the added bonus of startling Tachi off balance, and neatly, Chikage turns to fire, yet another splatter of pink paint bursting across Taichi’s chest.

“You know,” Itaru comments between breaths, “I think you’ve made enemies out of all of Autumn Troupe at this point.” 

“I don’t think you should be saying anything,” Chikage replies, “I bet Summer Troupe has a bounty on your head now after you took out their leader in cold blood.” And at that, Itaru throws back his head and laughs.

\--

It’s just Citron and Sakuya waiting for them at the rendezvous point.

“Tsuzuru got killed when Autumn Troupe ambushed us,” Sakuya explains, “we’re not sure what happened to Masumi.” 

“It is a martyr,” Citron agrees solemnly. 

“Mystery,” Itaru corrects automatically, “Tsuzuru is the martyr here. We took out most of Autumn Troupe on our way back, it’s just Juza and Omi left.” 

“Azuma and Tasuku as well are out,” Citron adds, “but I have not seen the Summer Troupe recently.” 

“Well, regardless, we shouldn’t stay here too long,” Chikage says, “we’re easy targets, here.” They make their way away from the rendezvous point, Chikage in front, Itaru and Sakuya in the middle, and Citron bringing up the rear. It’s quiet--the kind of quiet that makes Chikage listen harder, focusing past the shuffle of their footsteps and the ambient creaks and echoes the course makes to hear the sounds that shouldn’t be there. 

“Down!” Chikage hisses suddenly, grabbing Sakuya and Itaru’s arms and pulling them down. Above them, a paintball whizzes past, skimming over where Chikage’s head had been just a moment before before spattering on a pile of crates. Chikage narrows his eyes, tracing it back--of course, it was Hisoka, looking put out at having missed his shot. 

“As expected,” Homare says as he comes into view, “all we needed was the right motivation for Hisoka-kun.” 

“Hisoka-kun, marshmallow,” Tsumugi replies, holding one out. Hisoka takes it eagerly, as Chikage scrambles back up to his feet, gun back up, just in time to hear Citron give a little squawk as blue paint splatters across his front, courtesy of Guy. 

“I’m berry sorbet, Citronia,” Guy says, solemnly, a smile playing at his mouth.

“You are not at all!” Citron shoots back, but he’s laughing too. Chikage takes this opportunity to pull Sakuya and Itaru back up and make a hasty retreat away. As they retreat, Sakuya lets out a little ‘ah!’, before pulling at Chikage and Itaru in turn, leading them down a different corridor, which then rises gently in an incline--a watchtower, or as close as an approximation of one might be indoors in a paintball survival course. 

“Citron and I hid up here for a while earlier,” Sakuya explains, waving them up. 

“Nice, high ground advantage,” Itaru praises. From here, Chikage can see, they have a pretty good view of the area leading up to the tower, which is empty for now. Itaru leans forward over Chikage, craning his neck to look at the window, and Chikage pushes at his shoulder, gently --but he doesn’t miss the wince that flashes over Itaru’s face.

“Chigasaki?” Chikage frowns, reaching out again to press his fingers against Itaru’s shoulder, but Itaru draws back before his fingers can make contact. 

“So we’ve got this nice vantage point to shoot from,” Itaru says, his voice rising over Chikage’s concern, “but no one to take down. I think we need to devise a trap. Someone needs to try and lure the others here, and the other two will be waiting.” 

“A kill box, hm?” Chikage comments.

“All those FPS games I played have their uses,” Itaru replies.

“I’ll go down,” Sakuya says, with a determined nod.

“You sure?” Itaru asks.

“Yeah. You guys can count on me!” Sakuya says, and gives a cheery mock salute as he makes his way back down, leaving Chikage and Itaru alone. 

“...If you’re hurt, you shouldn’t push yourself,” Chikage says, watching Sakuya dash away from their hiding spot. Itaru doesn’t respond, his eyes tracking Sakuya’s path as well.

“....I don’t want to be a burden to you, Senpai,” Itaru replies, finally. 

“You’re not a burden,” Chikage replies, turning to look at him, and Itaru laughs a little, giving Chikage a little twisted smile.

“Liar,” he says, “I think I know my own weaknesses better than anyone else.” He leans over again, this time pressing his forehead against Chikage’s shoulder, and Chikage’s hand comes up, cupping the back of Itaru’s head gently. 

“You don’t need to push yourself,” Chikage amends.

“Mm,” Itaru replies.

They sit there for another few minutes, before the sound of a conflict reaches their ears, and together they peer out the window, to see Sakuya facing off against Homare and Tsumugi. 

“That’s our cue,” Itaru says, raising his gun up. Chikage isn’t far behind him, letting off two shots, both of which splatter across Homare’s hip and side. Below, Sakuya shoots, hitting Tsumugi in the arm. 

“GG!” Itaru yells to below, turning to flash Chikage a grin. It’s the same smile he shows whenever he’s feeling particularly pleased about the outcome of a game, and Chikage can’t help but smile back at it. That’s the excuse he’ll give, when he doesn’t notice Hisoka, who had clearly slipped past Sakuya below. 

“Senpai!” Itaru yells, his voice rising in panic as Chikage turns, processing Hisoka’s shot, his position, Itaru’s panicked expression. Shit, Chikage thinks, I’m--

Itaru throws himself forward, in front of Chikage, and Chikage hears Itaru’s little intake of breath at the impact as a paintball hits his chest before he clatters to the floor, crumpled on his side. 

“--Chigasaki!” Chikage yells, fumbling at his gun and shooting at Hisoka--who dodges Chikage’s wide shots before retreating again into the distance.

“Itaru,” Chikage says again, his voice lowering, and Itaru opens his eyes--when had he closed them?--to give Chikage a little smile and a laugh.

“Now you won’t be distracted anymore, Senpai.”

\--

“How’s your shoulder?” Chikage asks later. Itaru makes a face, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. There’s a fresh ice pack resting on his shoulder where he’s lying down on the couch, and Chikage’s eyes are drawn to it, of course. After he’d thrown himself in the path of Hisoka’s paintball, Itaru had landed right on his already twinging shoulder, definitively straining it. That, in conjunction with the cut on his cheek, meant that Itaru had come out the worst for wear out of all the Mankai members that day. 

“It’ll be fine,” Itaru replies, “luckily, I only need my fingers to survive.” He wiggles his hand at Chikage before returning to his phone, tapping as usual. 

“Hmm, I see,” Chikage replies, his voice neutral, but Itaru lowers his phone to narrow his eyes at Chikage. Chikage doesn’t reply, instead, lifting Itaru’s legs briefly to sit down on the opposite end of the couch. After a moment, Itaru returns to his game, fingers tapping quietly at his screen. 

“I don’t hate the way you are,” Chikage finally says, “I wish you would clean this room more, but I’ve never thought you were a burden. And even if you were, I’d carry you. Because you’re important to me.” 

“...that’s why I don’t want to be a burden to you,” Itaru says, pushing himself up with his good arm, phone dropping away, “I want to be an equal partner to you, someone you can rely on, rather than someone who has to rely on you.” 

“But you are,” Chikage replies, “you’ve been someone I could lean on since I first entered Mankai.” Itaru’s eyebrows are furrowed together, and Chikage leans forward to press his thumb against it, smoothing it out. 

“The Chigasaki Itaru I like,” Chikage says, “is the one who stays up until 3 AM and needs me to wake him up in the morning for work. The one who spends 200,000 yen on mobile games and is surprised when he’s broke at the end of the month. The one who’s wearing ratty sweatpants and has his hair tied up to greet me when I come home.” 

“Senpai--” Itaru starts, but there’s a knock at the door, before Misumi bursts in. 

“Itaru-san! Chikage-san!” Misumi calls.

“So you  _ are _ dating,” Yuki comments as he glances at the two of them on the couch, Chikage’s hand still on Itaru’s face. 

“We’re throwing a triangle party in the courtyard!” Misumi says, “Bring your best triangles!” 

“Huh?” Itaru asks, turning to look at them. 

“Director said Misumi could have a prize, since he won the game earlier, so we’re throwing a party for dinner,” Yuki explained, “if you two can tear yourselves away from each other for that long, anyways.” 

“Alright, we’ll be down soon,” Chikage says, his hand dropping completely from Itaru’s face as he leans back, “I’ll bring you a special triangle, as a prize, Misumi.” 

“Yay!” Misumi cheers, a whirlwind of energy who leaves as quickly as he had come, pulling Yuki along in his wake and leaving Chikage and Itaru in silence again. Chikage laughs, his mouth upturned almost involuntarily. 

“We should go down,” Chikage says, giving Itaru’s ankle a squeeze before he begins to get up. 

“Senpai--” Itaru says, hurriedly, and Chikage turns, one raised eyebrows as he looks at him.

“Yes?” Chikage asks.

“I like the Senpai who likes me,” Itaru says, and his face is red, a burning flush across his cheeks. 

Chikage smiles, and gently squeezes Itaru’s ankles again.

**Author's Note:**

> "Oi, Chigasaki," Chikage says the next morning, "get up, it's time to go to work." Itaru whines, pulling the covers over his head. 
> 
> "I used up all my LP yesterday running around," Itaru complains, "my entire body feels like it's on fire." 
> 
> "You should have thought about that before you decided to play the hero," Chikage replies unsympathetically, "if you're not ready by 8, I'm going to leave without you." 
> 
> Itaru groans.


End file.
